Desert Cowpoke
This poem is from Ed Keenan,
author & cowboy poet
 

Workin the Y5 on the Mexican border
From Marron Valley to Lyons Peak
Movin feeder cattle in arid country
Findin water in the summer heat

Shippin in yearlings in late October
For a couple of weeks in a feedlot
Doctorin and taggin and forkin ears
And givin each one their vet shot

Haulin them out to the ol’ homestead
Hopin November’s a real rainmaker
Desert land is ten acres per head
Instead of ten head to the acre

The cowboy’s job is to keep ‘em fed
Usin his savvy to keep ‘em well
Feedin cottonseed meal mixed with salt
Can carry ‘em through a dry spell

When winter rains bring spring grasses
Now them yearlins start to fatten
But rains are short and the days are hot
Soon the grass dries up and flattens

But keepin the gain of the winter rains
Means figgerin out where to graze
Roundup comes at the end of summer
And a cowboy’s countin the days 

The chores get many tendin the herd
Movin higher as the grass dries up
Stretchin a rope corral in the chaparral
Or stitchin hide to a worn out stirrup

Beddin down at night on the desert ground
At the end of a hard days workin
Dig in your coffee can with a damp rag
To catch many a desert scorpion

The chuck wagon cook is clankin his pots
He’s the first one up that stirs
Wash ‘yer face in the creek ‘fore daylight
Roll ‘yer beddin up full of burrs

Now the herd’s strung out like a centipede
Near the old Butterfield stage route
We’re movin’em up to Deer Horn Flats
Hear the cowboy’s whistle and shout

‘Cause it won’t be long till roundup time
Shippin steers on down the highway
The market’s good and it’s been a wet year
So we oughta have a decent payday

But a desert cowpoke won’t ever be rich
‘Cept in livin the life he endears
Bacon and beans and a new pair of Levis
Maybe a pickup durin good years

© Ed Keenan 05-2000